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Hi folks, this is a long one. And it’s not going to be the ending you expect. But getting there is the fun part. It’s difficult getting to write during this time of year because we’re putting the batteries back in and all of the wheels back on all of the cars to get ready for spring. Yesterday we had temps in the sixties for the first time this year, so I took the Boss out. God, I missed that growl. Anyway, back to the story ... oh, now’s as good a time as any to warn you. Like I said at the beginning of the year. This year I want to do some different things, so after this one the next two are gonna be kind of weird. The next one is kind of an adventure story and the following one is a fantasy type story so grab this bit of normalcy while you can. Here we go. SS06
This story, except for the fact that it’s totally fiction, is 100% true.
Okay ... now that we’ve got that settled, I can tell you. The other day, I was online reading something and I saw that Danica was retiring from NASCAR. I remembered from last year that she was having difficulty finding a sponsor. So, doesn’t that kind of mean that maybe NASCAR retired from her?
There’s also word that she might drive at Indy this year. I’m confused though. I thought that her failure to win at Indy was what made her try NASCAR.
I’m pretty sure that this makes it seem like I’m one of those misogynistic hillbillies who don’t want no wimmen invadin’ their NASCAR. Nothing could be further from the truth.
I’m all for women in motorsports. Shit ... I think that Ashley Force’s birthday should be a national holiday. And any woman who wants to get behind the wheel deserves all the credit and kudos we’d give to any man in the same position. I just like cars. I love Fords in general and Mustangs in particular. My grievance against Danica has nothing to do with any distaste for women in motorsports.
The fact is that I just can’t stand the shit out of Danica.
Now that it’s all in the past I can talk about it, but the thing is that Danica ruined my life.
My name is Dave Thomas and I was your typical, average, every day, suburban dad. I’d been married to my wife Wendy for twenty-one years. Our two kids, Dan and Kimmy were the most amazing kids in the world, although I might be slightly biased.
Wendy was truly the light of my life though. Even after all our years together, I still loved her like crazy.
I’d always thought that God must’ve really taken a liking to me when he gave me Wendy. I mean who else but Wendy, would put up with me?
I’m not really that bad, what I am is average. I’m not exciting, or extremely good looking, or talented, I’m just average.
I’m reasonably attractive and a good provider, but women always seem to want some almost feminine looking bad boy type with washboard abs and a mean streak. I have none of that. What I bring to the table is the fact that no one could ever possibly love Wendy more than I do.
We have a typical split-level family house in a suburb of Michigan and were really happy before Danica fucked it all up.
We were very popular and well-liked in our circle. Wendy did the PTA and all those charity things that wives do. I bowled and golfed with my next-door neighbor and best friend Ron McDonald.
We also held parties and card nights with a group of couples in our subdivision. It was all tea and crumpets before D ... you get the picture.
It all started out so innocently. Me, and Ron, along with our friends King Berger, and Whyte Kassel, had decided to drive out to MIS for the NASCAR race they have out there every year on Father’s Day.
As usual it was a fun outing. We got pit passes and got to see all the cars and some of the drivers before the race. Some of those guys were so nice that they seemed to be just regular guys. I got Jimmy Johnson’s autograph.
Others were so intense it was scary. I barely got out of way before Kyle Busch pushed me into a wall.
We had plenty of fun and plenty of beer before it happened. We had great seats and were in a good section. Everyone around us was having fun. As the race neared the end we were all slightly buzzed.
Danica had been running solidly in twenty eighth place when there was a huge pileup. They sent her to the infirmary along with several other drivers as a precaution.
At the time I didn’t realize it but the door to the infirmary was just beyond the safety wall near our seats.
As she left the infirmary one of the broadcasting crew was interviewing Danica. Everyone in our section was yelling at Danica and waving and trying to get her to notice them. I guess they wanted her to come over and sign some autographs.
Maybe it was the beer, but I wasn’t really drunk. I guess maybe I was just having too much fun. As is typical for me, I just got lost in the moment. I climbed up onto the wall and waved my hands. I think she noticed me. I’m sure she tilted her head in my direction and the glare from those damned mirrored sunglasses that she always wears, temporarily blinded me and caused me to lose my balance.
One of my feet slipped off the wall and I dropped like a stone. Gravity, turned the concrete retaining wall into an anvil and my nuts into a hammer. I hit so hard I was sure that I had spit one of my balls out onto the track where it could be run over by one of those God damned cars.
But I’m lying ... the impact was so brutal that I blacked out from the pain. I woke up hours later in the hospital. My balls were the size of cantaloupes and I was on IV painkillers so strong that I had no feeling below the waist.
I looked around the room and saw a nurse passing by in the hall outside. She was one of those tiny, thin women with a head full of hair and a bright, cheerful smile. But that was really all she had, and I tend to like my women with a bit more meat on their bones.
“It never ceases to amaze me...” said a voice from the one direction I hadn’t looked in.
I turned my head sharply and there she sat beside my bed. She’d been sitting there reading something or playing a game on her iPad, while waiting for me to regain consciousness.
Her pretty face held the beginnings of a smirk. In fact, her mouth was gently, yet not completely pursed and on the verge of forming that smirk. But her eyes examined my face, sussing my condition. Except for my mother, no person on Earth knew me better.
And with that intimate knowledge, gleaned from decades spent with me, she decided that it wasn’t the time for a smirk. But the seriousness of my condition, if not the situation still made it necessary for her to vent.
“ ... here you are forty fucking years old, with two kids ... one away at college and another one at home, who’ll be there in two years ... yet you display behavior that neither of your kids would do.
Seriously David...” She paused slightly to allow the full impact of her usage of my entire first name to penetrate. I was normally referred to as Honey, Hun, Sweetie, Dave, or Davey. Being called David meant that I’d be expected to do some major ass-kissing once this had all blown over.
I decided that I might as well start then. I molded my facial features into the most contrite expression I could manage. I was going for that hang-dog, sad puppy face, but with the amount of pain killers I was getting, I have no idea what my face was doing.
In fact, when I tried to apologize and had trouble getting my mouth to articulate two words that married men master long before they take the first step down that long assed aisle, I knew that I was in trouble.
“... ‘M surreee,” I mumbled. It sounded pretty fucking pitiful.
But in the way of someone who really and truly loved me with everything she had, Wendy took one look at me and did that curious thing that women do. Her heart melted and her concern for me outweighed any aberrant behavior on my part.
Her angry words were meant to warn me not to do it again, but her tone told me how glad she was that I was okay.
“But of all the things you could have injured...” she pouted. “Why’d it have to be my favorite toys?”
Her words were all it took to remind me of how lucky I was to have her. Wendy had a pretty, not beautiful, but really pretty face. Her brown eyes were so expressive that you could tell her moods, just by looking into those eyes.
Her dark hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders. It stopped just as things got interesting. Wendy was built the way men like their women. She wasn’t a stick figure, like the nurse who’d just left.
She had honest to God boobs and very big ones. Her waist was a little soft, but after having two kids, that was expected. And her ass more than made up for it.
In fact, it was her ass, that big, juicy, round, mound of flesh that got me into trouble.
Wendy and I met when we were double dating with friends. She was dating a guy named Ed, that I hung out with. He’d brought me along as a date for one of Wendy’s friends. It was strange and probably not the wisest thing to do.
It was his first date with Wendy. First dates are supposed to be a chance for two people to see if there’s any chemistry between them. And it was obvious from the beginning that there wasn’t. At least it was to me, Wendy and her friend Gail.
Gail and I exchanged phone numbers after the date, but at first, I wondered why we’d bothered. Gail was pretty. She was perhaps prettier than Wendy, but not by very much. And our personalities didn’t seem to mesh.
We have neither the same sense of humor, nor the same outlook on life. Wendy and I both laughed at sections of the movie that Ed and Gail didn’t see the slightest bit of humor in.
And from our talk in the restaurant after the movie, it was very clear that Gail, as pretty as she was, didn’t want the same things in life that I did. She wanted a career more than anything else. And that career was always going to come first.
She wanted a boyfriend for while she was at home, but not someone that she was so committed to that she had to consider his feelings when things for work came up.
When she slipped me her phone number, while Ed was trying to coerce Wendy into a second date, I had no idea why she was giving it to me.
“If you don’t call me tomorrow, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life,” she smiled. And I was really confused then. After a friendly good night kiss and a tiny shake of her head that left me even more confused, Ed and I drove away.
Ed was almost in tears. “I can’t believe that went soooo badly!” he hissed.
“Well, Ed,” I said. “It was a first date. They’re always a gamble. You went out. You had fun. You got a chance to see if the two of you were compatible. Okay ... so you weren’t. It happens. So, you move on and...”
“Who said we weren’t compatible?” he snapped. “It was just first date jitters. We were both nervous!”
I shrugged my shoulders, thinking that the only way the date could have been worse would have been if she’d slapped him instead of dodging his attempts to kiss her. I almost laughed when she told him that SHE would call HIM. I was pretty sure she wouldn’t. It was as bad as if she’d brushed him off with, “Don’t call me ... I’ll call you,” while knowing that she had no intention of ever calling him.
Not that I was in any position to brag. Gail had ended our evening with the kind of kiss you give your sister. It seemed strange. Especially after begging me to call her.
Over the next few days, Ed descended into a funk as his more and more frantic attempts to gain a second date with Wendy failed.
I realized how bad it was when a group of our friends tried to get him to get his head out of his ass and move on.
“Dude ... get some self-respect, you’re embarrassing yourself,” our friends told him. “She’s not even THAT good looking.”
“I’ve heard that she dates a lot,” said another friend. “If you know what I mean!”
“Damn ... that makes it even colder,” said the first guy.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” asked the first guy.
“Well if she dates a lot of guys, and she won’t date Ed... ?” hinted the other guy. “I mean if she was a cheerleader or a super model ... I could understand it ... but she’s just... ?”
“Hot!” I said, surprising myself. “And it’s worse. The cheerleaders and the supermodel types are all crazy. Wendy is the real deal. She’s a real woman. Tell me that any one of you hasn’t caught yourself staring at her big round booty?”
“I’ve never seen her ass...” smirked the first guy. “I’m usually too busy salivating over her boobs.”
“Alright we all admit that Wendy is extremely fuckable,” someone said.
“But at the same time, she’s the kind of girl you could take home to meet your parents. Your mom would love her, and your dad would tell you to marry her,” I said.
“The problem...” said another guy, joining the conversation. “ ... is that the bitch knows it!” We all agreed.
“Maybe Ed should lower his standards,” said the first guy. “Why not just date a few other girls. Maybe Wendy would see him with those other girls and change her mind.”
“Good idea!” spat the second guy. “But if he really wanted to fuck with her mind, he should ask Gail out. Gail doesn’t date as much. Gail is also prettier than Wendy and slimmer too!”
“Oh shit!” said Ed, suddenly. He looked at me.
“Dave ... uhm ... sorry buddy! I’ve had my head so far up my ass that I’ve forgotten to tell you that Gail wants you to call her.”
“Who told you that?” I asked.
“Uh ... she did!” he said. “Uh when I was over at their dorm looking for Wendy ... she uhm...”
“Stalker,” coughed one of our friends, on the sly.
“I am not a God damned stalker,” hissed Ed.
“Tell that shit to the police and see if they let you out,” laughed the first guy.
“Why does Gail want me to call her?” I asked. “Sorry ... Ed, but our date was barely better than yours. Gail is pretty, but we have no chemistry. I see her as more of a friend than anything else. Our goals are not compatible.”
“So why not call her and talk Ed up,” said the first guy. “You can convince her that Eddy has moved on and see if you can get her to date him, so he can show off for Wendy.”
“I’m not sure I should get involved in this,” I said. “This could all go terribly bad.”
“It’s not like you’re interested in Gail,” whined Ed. “Be a pal. Do THIS for me and I’ll owe ya one.”
So, I did it. And it did not work out the way we thought it would.
For some reason I was nervous as I punched her number into my phone.
A second later she’d picked it up and it was too late to hang up.
“Hello,” she said.
“Hi, this is David,” I replied.
“Damn ... it took ya long enough,” she said. Her voice sounded warm and friendly. It relaxed me.
“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” I asked.
“Oh ... I didn’t,” she said. “Hang on...” I was even more confused.
“Hi Davey,” said a voice that brought chills to me. “This is Wendy...”
“Are you calling to ask me to try to get Ed to stop pestering you... ?” I began.
“Who... ?” she asked. That alone made me feel weird. Ed, one of my best friends was going seemingly crazy over this girl and she barely remembered him. That set off a bunch of red flags in my head. I felt like a fly, stuck in a spider’s web. I was already trapped, and there was no way the spider was just gonna let me go.
“Oh ... that guy!” she laughed. “Nope, I didn’t call you about him. He’ll go away eventually. I called to ask if you wanted to do something.” Actually, I’d called her, but she didn’t seem to care who’d made the contact.
“Ed would be...” I began. But she cut me off.
“Davey ... forget about Fred,” she said. “He and I went out on one date. It wasn’t even a solo date. It was a double date. That’s kind of like an audition for a real date. I was nice to him. I didn’t bail on him as soon as I realized that we had nothing in common. I also didn’t bail on him when I realized that there was no chemistry between us. I was nice to him. I didn’t string him along or give him any sort of false hope. I thanked him for a nice time and that was it.”
“I remember,” I said. “I was there.”
“Yep, you were,” she gushed. “You and I laughed the whole time. We have the same sense of humor. And we seem to want the same things out of life. Unlike a lot of people our age, we seem to have our heads on straight ... not that there’s anything wrong with what Gail wants or what Ed may someday want when he grows up ... I mean shit ... I hope he’s lucky and moves into an apartment building with a comic book store on the first floor, right next to a McDonalds ... just like he said. But those things aren’t even blips on my radar.”
I laughed because what she’d said was absolutely true.
“Davey, people go on dates to meet people. They gain experience and find out what they like or don’t like. Ed and I are NOT going to end up together. The whole time that we were out together, I felt like I was on a date with YOU.”
My head exploded when she said that. Her voice wasn’t very loud. And she wasn’t talking fast or being aggressive. She was just telling me what she felt.
“And you felt it too,” she said, with absolutely no trace of doubt in her voice. “Just like you feel it right God damned now. So, come and claim me. Come and take me somewhere, so we can talk and laugh some more.”
My heart was beating in my chest like a speed metal drummer’s bass drum.
“But Ed is my...” I began.
“Fuck Ed,” she growled. “I know you’re friends. But are you gonna spend the rest of your life with Ed?”
“Probably not,” I managed to say. “We’re on different career paths and we’re from different states ... So...”
“So, you should probably be concentrating on someone you very well might end up spending the rest of your life with,” she said. And again, I could tell that she wasn’t playing any kind of game. “Come and get me Davey.”
The way she spoke. The way her voice was halfway between a croon and a growl excited me. But there was still more to it. After spending less than five minutes on the phone with a girl that I’d seen only once, I felt as if we were already in a relationship of some sort.
But sanity broke through and I remembered what one of our friends had said. His exact words were, “I’ve heard she dates a lot!”
There was no way I was getting out of it. So, I decided to at least go into it with my head on straight and my eyes wide open.
I had all the facts laid out in front of me and it was scary.
She dated a lot. That meant that she either didn’t stay with a guy for long, or that she dated multiple guys at once. There was also the probability that she just got guys to take her out, so she could eat and squeeze them for money.
That might have been the difference between Ed and me. I had a paid internship to help with my expenses. I also had an aging but dependable car to get around in. My Mustang wasn’t anywhere near new ... shit ... the car was almost as old as I was, but it always started and rarely gave me any trouble.
Another fact was that if I dated her, it might adversely affect my friendship with Ed. For that reason alone, I knew that it was something I shouldn’t do. But if Ed was really my friend, he’d understand.
At the same time, I never expected anything with Wendy to go much further than a date or two. So, I had no intention of allowing myself to become too deeply invested in it.
“I’ll be right there,” I told her.
On my way over to her dorm, I went over all the rules I’d made. I also told myself that at every opportunity I would talk Ed up. I would also try to figure out what had gone wrong between them.
That way, at least I’d be able to tell Ed that I’d done it in his own best interest.
The problem was that as soon as I saw her, I forgot all about Ed. It wasn’t her outfit. I can honestly say that. What she wore could almost be called the American uniform.
She stepped outside of her building, wearing a pair of dark blue jeans and a white blouse. You see men and women everyday wearing the same thing. It wasn’t the outfit. It was the body squeezed into it.
Her jeans were so tight that I wondered how it was possible for her to get into them.
Wendy is not and was not a small girl. Her waist is about average size for a woman. The problem is that her boobs are far above normal size and her ass is too.
Her body has that perfect hourglass shape that drives men wild. And when you add that pretty face and yards of thick, shiny brown hair, things get really serious, really fast.
But that first day ... Wendy overwhelmed me. I forgot all the rules I’d made for myself, as easily as I’d forgotten Ed.
She walked right over to me, right up to me and wrapped her arms around me, as if we’d been dating for years. She pulled my face down to hers and kissed me. Her mouth opened, and I tasted cherries.
Wendy molded her body against me and continued kissing me. My hands flailed and finally settled on her waist. She ground her pelvis into me and let out a gasp.
I was sure I saw a smirk on her face as we slowly separated. She was nodding her head, as if she knew something that I didn’t. Or maybe she had just confirmed something.
“You smell good,” she said. “And you taste even better. You need to relax though. This is over.”
“So ... you don’t want to go out?” I asked.
I was wondering what I’d done wrong. Shit ... even Ed had made it further into the date than I had. I decided that the bitch was crazy.
“I want whatever you want,” she smirked.
She had to be kidding. What I wanted more than anything else right then would have been to have buried my throbbing dick between those thick thighs. A close second would have been just grabbing two handfuls of her big, soft butt.
I took her to an outdoor concert because I remembered from our double date that she liked music. I’d also figured that it was one of the places that none of my friends would be likely to show up at. Back in those days most guys concentrated on the four pillars of life ... Pussy, Beer, Video games and Sports.
During the drive to the concert, we didn’t talk much. She turned herself around in her seat and stared at me as we drove. She had a contented smile on her face and I was glad that I had to keep my eyes in the road because I was afraid to look at her.
I pulled a blanket from the trunk and we sat on the grass on a hill listening to the music. We talked and laughed a lot. The smile never left her face and her eyes were lit up.
“What did you mean when you said it was over?” I asked. She just laughed.
“I feel so sorry for you,” she smirked, ignoring my question completely.
“Why do you feel sorry for me?” I asked.
She leaned over and gave me one of those soul searing kisses again. “Because you want to fuck me so bad that it hurts,” she laughed. “But it’s not gonna happen, so just relax and enjoy the evening. There are rules, you know.”
And I did. I relaxed and enjoyed the feeling of lying on soft grass, holding and kissing her. She was not the woman I remembered from her date with Ed. She was constantly confusing me.
“Just do it,” she laughed.
“What?” I asked.
“Davey, you are fascinated by my ass,” she giggled. “You keep moving your hands towards it, but you back off every time.”
“I ... I ... you...” I stammered.
“Davey, even in these modern times ... a nice girl doesn’t have sex with a guy before their third date,” she giggled. “But you can feel on my ass any time you want.”
“But Ed didn...” I began.
“What is it with you and Ed?” she giggled. “Do I have to fight that guy over you?”
“No but...” I sputtered.
“Do you remember what I said earlier?” she asked. “It’s over. I’m done looking. You’re gonna laugh at this ... but I’ll bet you any amount of money that you and I end up getting married.”
As I looked into her eyes, in the moonlight, with the music playing from the stage at the bottom of the hill, I knew that not only was she serious, she was right.
She kissed me again and our tongues found each other. She wrapped her arms around me. She shimmied her upper body and rubbed those big soft tits against my chest. My hands inched downwards, and she giggled and then just grabbed my wrists and placed my hands on her ass.
Almost too quickly the concert ended. “What else did you have in mind?” she asked.
“Uhm ... a movie or dinner or a walk along the riverfront... ?” I said.
“They’re all very good ideas,” she said. “But I think we should call it a night.”
“Okay...” I said, trying not to sound disappointed. She looked like the cat that swallowed the canary.
I was pretty sure that I had figured out her game. She was a misandrist. It had nothing to do with Ed, or with me, Wendy simply hated men. She enjoyed seeing us disappointed and hurting us. The more I thought about it, the more I saw through her game.
Ed had been smitten with the bitch from jump street. She had built up his affection to the point where she was satisfied and then dumped him without actually giving him the dignity of being dumped.
What I’d originally taken as kindness, was just more game playing. If she’d simply told Ed that she didn’t want to date him again, it would have been far easier on him. Instead of chasing her around and begging her to go out with him, she got him hooked and then left him twisting in the wind.
That would never happen with me. She clearly saw that I would not be Ed. So, with me she’d changed her tactics. She was all over me like a cat in heat. She was rubbing her big old titties against me and letting me feel on her ass, all while giving me the bullshit routine about how I wouldn’t get to fuck her until after our third date.
I figured that on the next date, she’d ramp things up even more and then ... with me practically rubbing my dick against every firm surface I could find ... she’d pull the rug out from under me. Either there would be no third date, or she’d have to leave for some fake emergency during the third date and leave me high and dry while reminding me that we’d be fucking the next time.
The bitch was so evil that it was funny. I wonder what had happened to her to make her that way. Somebody had to have fucked her over badly. But it hadn’t been Ed and it hadn’t been me. I felt kind of sorry for her.
There was a different type of silence in the car as I drove her home. We were both smiling, but neither of our smiles came from any type of joy. Hers came because she thought she had another sucker on the hook.
Mine came because I had stared evil in the face and came out victorious. I had looked into the eyes of the spider in its own web and emerged relatively unscathed. I just needed to explain it all to Ed and give him back his self-worth. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d simply been the victim of the next gen version of a prick tease.
I hope that he’d get over it without a lot of emotional scars. Ed was kind of quirky and a bit of a nerd, but God damn it, computers have become so much a part of everyday living that we’re all fucking nerds now.
We got back to her dorm and I opened the car door for her. I made sure not to show an iota of disappointment. It was hard not to smile as I looked at her through more clinical eyes.
As she headed towards her building entrance, she turned and looked at me.
“No goodnight kisses?” she asked. I pretended to be surprised.
“I didn’t know you did that,” I smirked. “You didn’t kiss Ed goodnight.”
“Again, with fucking Ed,” she spat. “Ed ... Ed ... Ed! Are you guys joined at the brain? We are not naming our first child after him so get that out of your head. No ... I didn’t kiss Ed goodnight.
But I didn’t kiss Ed at all. I’ve been kissing YOU all night, though haven’t I? And excuse me, but I thought you liked it.
Davey, kissing Ed would have been cruel. Going out with him any more would have been evil. I’m not an evil girl, Davey. You already know that. Ed did the single worst thing he could have done on our date. You know what that was?”
“Let me guess he was...” I began. I kept my voice down although I was ready to launch into a conversation on how terribly awful first dates are for guys, and how Ed was probably just nervous because he didn’t date often, but she cut me off.
In the way that predators have of blocking their prey’s exit she lulled me into shutting up with a tilt of her incredible brown eyes and that fat lower lip.
I stopped talking immediately. “Okay...” I said, blowing out a cleansing breath. “What terrible thing did Ed do.”
Her answer was not what I expected.
“He brought YOU along,” she said. “Davey, I’m not Gail. She’s prettier than I am. She’s thinner than I am, and she’s smarter than I am. Gail goes out on dates when she’s low on money, so she gets to eat for free.
Gail is all about her career and her bottom line. I date a lot more because I’ve been looking for something. As soon as you got out of that car and looked at me, I knew I’d found it. I gave Ed every chance I could, but all through the night, the only thing that was apparent was that Ed and I have very little in common and literally no chemistry between us.
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